


Barcelona Night

by Kethys



Category: Death Note
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 14:27:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kethys/pseuds/Kethys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was as if time had stopped and they were running in slow motion, darting into hidden alleys and between merchant shops along the street. Another shot rang through the still night and Mello couldn't tell if it was from Matt's gun or the mafia's. He glanced over his shoulder, checking to ensure that the gamer was right behind him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Barcelona Night

He stares over the vast landscape of Barcelona. From the third floor of a run-down hotel he glances at the patrons below, making their way along the cracked cobble steps in a hurry. Smoke from his lips rises in the thick air and he shakes the ashes off the edge of the railing. Reaching up he touches the rosary that dangles from his neck, but his hand connects with air. 

Cursing Matt's name under his breath he drops the used cigarette off the balcony. If only Matt had been faster, more agile, or less stupid.

_It was as if time had stopped and they were running in slow motion, darting into hidden alleys and between merchant shops along the street. Another shot rang through the still night and Mello couldn't tell if it was from Matt's gun or the Mafia's. He glanced over his shoulder, checking to ensure that the gamer was right behind him._

_"Dammit Matt!" he yelled and dug his boots into the dusty path. Matt had stopped to reload his gun during a damn chase. "Ditch it!"_

_"It's jammed!" he yelled back, struggling to pull the empties out. Another shot was heard, closer this time and Matt dropped the gun, turned on his heel, and followed after the blond._

_Waiting for Matt had cost them and the gang rounded the corner, screaming at them in Italian._

_"Perché lei corre? Vogliamo parlare appena." The man at the forefront cocked his gun "Ritornare qui lei lo stronzo!"_

_Instinctively, Mello reached back and grabbed Matt's hand, dragging him along as the sound of gunfire filled their ears. However, as Matt grabbed onto Mello, Matt’s hand hooked around the dangling rosary around Mello’s neck and snapped. Ruby red beads spilled to the ground like small droplets of blood. They rolled, scattering and crunching underneath heavy boots. There was no time to go back._

Mello turns and steps into the warm hotel room. There is a low hum being emitted from the radio and Mello can faintly hear Matt singing Only the Good Die Young under his breath. Hitting pause on his game with calloused thumbs, Matt turns up the song and the upbeat melody wafts through the room. Even though it is Christmas Eve and the tempo of the music has Mello tapping his fingers to the beat, he cannot but help feel the looming dread. He knows he's fucked up. He knows the whole plan is ruined and there's no way to fix it. He knows Matt knows and doesn't say anything, just to make the pain easier. 

"Hey Mello, it's snowing." Mello is pulled from his self-pity to glance outside the balcony doors. Sure enough, small white flecks of snow are falling from the sky and steadily building up on the ground below. The men find themselves on the balcony, hands out to catch the flakes, watching as they melt on their warm skin. The longer they stay outside and smoke cigarette after cigarette, the heavier the snow falls, blanketing the city in a layer of pure white innocence.

"Let's go down there," Matt offers. "Build a snowman."

For a moment, Mello thinks the gamer has lost it. It's cold and still snowing, and the very act of building a snowman seems childish. Mello is hesitant for a moment, but with no one around to watch him, he can't find a reason to deny the child inside of Matt.

The snow crunches underneath their feet, sticking to the underside of their boots. Mello can already feel the snow melting, soaking into the tough leather. By the time they have assembled a lumpy looking snowman, Mello is tired and is leaning heavily against Matt. The pair sit against the wall, against each other, and stare at the creature they have created together. 

"It kind of.." Matt starts, but is cut off by Mello's sharp jab in his side.

The unfinished statement hangs in the air like smoke from a cigarette. Mello has to agree though, their creation does kind of look like the white haired boy they left behind. Maybe it is the pureness of the snow, or the fact that it is Christmas morning now, but Mello finds himself thinking about Near. He wonders if he's spending Christmas alone, like himself and Matt. He wonders if the SPK bothered to give Near any gifts and if any of them are from Santa.

Somewhere in England Near might be settling down to unwrap gifts, or eating a Christmas dinner. Mello can't remember the time difference any more. It's been too long since he was last 'home'. He's filled with dread and loneliness in a moment, remembering Christmas at Whammy's, being a small child and finding chocolates, workbooks, and even a lump of coal in his stocking.

"Merry Christmas, Mello" Matt breaks the silence, interrupting Mello's thoughts.

"Merry Christmas, Matt," Mello agrees. More silence fills the space between them until Mello murmurs under his breath

"Merry Christmas, Near..."


End file.
